


It Could Have Happened

by SocialisesWithBooks



Category: Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 01:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3338849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocialisesWithBooks/pseuds/SocialisesWithBooks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*Allegiant spoilers* David. Staring. Standing right in front of her. A struggle for power leaving Tris fighting for consciousness. Fighting for a grip on reality. What's left of the Bureau can't afford to let her escape and start a war, so they devised a plan. A plan to reset her with the memory serum. A plan to send Tris out into the real world as a completely different person. With a new personality and new memories. Can she remember the past before the past remembers her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Could Have Happened

Chapter 1  
Tris' P.O.V.  
I hit the ground, hard. Not seconds later I hear gun shots firing in the background, but that's not where my attention is focused. I shove one arm after another onto the floor, dragging the rest of my body behind. All I can do is search for cover. I hear David’s gun fire.

I never really understood pain. It is a strange sensation, as if people aren’t really satisfied with what you do, so they give you this to make you work harder, try faster. But now, I think I finally understand it as it pulses through my veins in a thousand different forms. I hear the lasting ringing of my scream, but deny that it was my own voice. This is what pain is.

I can think of plenty of words to say to David, but none that will actually help my cause. I crawl behind a corner and slowly rise from the floor, resting my body against the wall. I keep both hands up and use my head to peek around the corner. As soon as I see David I notice the gun he is pointing at me, from a distance of roughly ten metres. There was no use in hiding, he already knew where I was. Slowly and cautiously I step out from behind the wall.

This is it. This is my fate. I thought I was ready; I’m not. A few tears escape my eyes, and I don’t bother to hold it back. My body feels heavy from the poison. It weighs me down like a thousand broken promises. Then I push out what will likely be my last words.

"Won't. Get. Away. With. This.” Pushing out those words is like trying to talk under water. You know exactly what you’re saying and your purpose is clear. Yet no one can understand what you mean. No one can help you if you cannot communicate with them. I am speaking these words to him underwater. My purpose is clear, but to David, my purpose seems a waste. This ‘damaged’ world needs fixing, and he is prepared to sacrifice thousands of lives in order to come out with a ‘good’ result. This so called ‘good’ is nothing but evil.

"Oh, don't worry," he says. And by the tone of his voice he isn't worried the slightest bit, "we won't let you get away with this."

He pulls back the trigger of his gun, and I hear the bullet click in place. Then he fires.

But I haven't come this far for nothing. Prepared for his action, I dive sideways and look back in the direction of the bullet, which had punctured one of the cans of memory serum that lay stacked neatly behind me. The hiss coming from the hole in the can distracts me, as the white mist sprays into the air.

Different voices are shouting words in my head, and one reminds me of what Matthew once told Four. One can, if used correctly, has enough to reset roughly two-thousand memories. We’d only need around 10 cans the reset the Bureau, but a lot more if we wanted to reset Chicago.

As the deadly chemicals fill my lungs I notice how lightheaded I feel. I’m dizzy, too incapable I don’t now how I’m still breathing. I can feel every inch of my body pleading for mercy. The pain is dull, yet excruciating at the same time. 

David lets out a small laugh, a grin on his face. “Dodging a bullet? It’s difficult, I’ll give you credit, but it’s going to take a lot more than that to bring down the Bureau,” he mocks. "Did you really think I came here without inoculating myself against the memory serum too? Honestly Tris,’ he shakes his head sighing. ‘I thought we taught you better than that.”

I flinch. He shouldn't even know my name. He only knows because he was watching my whole life on a screen and didn't do a damn thing about it. He let thousands of innocent people die, and he didn’t care. David just sat and watched, broadcasting our lives to countless others who looked at us like we were lab rats. He watched us bleed to death, crying for the comfort of our loved ones, praying that the tears would end soon.

He deserves to die a painful death.

I turn my head back to David, anger slowly bubbling in my veins, and start looking around the room for options, but I become frustrated quickly. The Bureau made a whole room dedicated to weapons, and yet they didn’t bother to put one single gun inside it? Then I recall what David said. He was expecting me. He could have removed the guns so that my hands could not pull the trigger that would bring down the Bureau.

I feel so stupid for leaving my gun in the hallway during such a dangerous operation. Of course there would be more obstacles. Did I really think it would be that easy?

I remember his gun. His weapon. His protection. I have none. It makes me feel safer knowing that David has shot four bullets, and his gun holds five. He has one bullet left. But then again, it only takes one bullet to kill.

My eyes notice the hooks lining the left wall of the weapons lab; the wall David stands in front of. They are spaced at regular intervals and are shaped like hooks. My eyes holt as they spot the luck I was looking for. One gun, still left on its hook, is the only thing I need. My eyes run over its shiny, metallic surface, and find that it's not filled with bullets. Instead it's filled with a foreign red liquid I have never seen before. A paper sign taped to the aluminium wall behind it reads “testing in progress: celer actiō liquidum venenum.”

I don't know what it will do, but I know that it is the best protection I could ask for. The only thing is… David. 

Standing, well sitting actually, between myself and the gun is David. He has a distressed look on his face, probably wondering whether he should lock me up and leave me here with only the death serum as company, or finish me off himself to make sure that there is no chance I will get my hands on the serum.

But he is wrong.

I will release the memory serum.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: (If I get any of this note thing wrong, it's because I've never used this website before) Just for future reference, I usually (try to) have chapters that are over the 1000 word count, and hopefully more. [I also try to update once a fortnight, but school is quite busy]
> 
> For all of you who liked this story and followed/favourited it before, please don't hesitate to do it again. Please leave a review, it's very special to authors and it only take two words! Thank you so much for your support!
> 
> My last note is: Thank you to my awesome and super-skilled beta reader, shards-of-darkness. They a really great job and neatening up your work and correcting any mistakes. They are also a very good at being a human thesaurus! Thank you once more!
> 
> ~SocialisesWithBooks


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